Tears of Perfection
by meganekko-bomb
Summary: A language arts assignment gets twisted to suit my fanfiction needs! Kratos muses about how Mithos needs perfection, after Kranna angst.


Caylah LyonsLanguage Arts Final DraftOctober 11, 2006

Tears of Perfection

"I won't help you if you are not perfect."

Those were the words he said to me, the words that echoed in my mind, keeping any free thoughts I may have had at bay. And there's nothing else to do here but think.

He was responsible for my imprisonment here. In the hollowed-out halls of Vinheim, he locked me in with my misery. Of course, when the key was inserted into the door, turned, and promptly thrown away, I was too absorbed in my own self-pity to notice. No compassion was offered to my multifarious pain, he tried ardently to force me back into the mold of a perfect servant. I was broken, however, and would not fit. Anger replaced his collected demeanour; he struck at me when I was apathetic to his desires for my perfection.

"You were so perfect! And she ruined you! That… woman! Look what she's done to you!"

Little did he know that my beloved, my deceased, my Anna was the only one who really repaired me; she had saved me from my own self-consumption. Day by day, I would chip away at what little life I had willing to live waiting for another sunrise to pass by. Four thousand years is far too long for anyone to keep ploughing on through the world. Anna showed me what life could really be like, that things could never be perfect, but we could all do our best to get as close as possible. But now she's gone, and he has possession of my soul once again.

"Listen to me, Kratos! You had better get your act together! That worthless human is gone, quit dwelling on it! You are to be my perfect warrior, now get up!"

He struck me again. I don't care. I will never be what he wants. Why even bother trying?

"Kratos!"

I looked dully up at him, shifting my gaze from the once-smooth concrete wall that was now riddled with fissures and faults of my own making.

"I will never be your idea of perfect, don't you understand?"

This time I received a sharp kick. I doubled up, wincing in pain as his heavy boot connected with my ribcage. Really, what was he hoping to accomplish by physically beating me? It was my mind that was imperfect and broken, not my body. Sure, I had sustained some wounds during the …incident, but those would heal in time. What would not heal is the damage my soul had received, not even time can make these scars fade.

"I can force you into perfection! You just need to be properly educated!" To emphasize his point, he kicked me again; now I knelt on the floor before him clutching my chest where he had forcibly hit me. Air caught in my throat, he had knocked the wind out of me. As I crumpled to my knees, he took advantage of my vulnerability and swung his foot forward to collide with my chin. I dropped to the ground, still thinking furiously. I coughed, I tiny, insignificant though occurring to me.

_I can't be perfect. I can't take it. This life is too hard even being imperfect._

He can't leave me alone. All I want to do is leave his presence, to be free of his stranglehold on my choices. This should be conceivably possible, no one should have such impenetrable power over another, it just isn't right.

At times like this, I wonder what he wants me to be. Anything I do, he finds some way to criticize my efforts. I cry, I scream, I kill for him, but he still won't listen to me. He won't hear me, I'm dying inside and he won't notice.

By my own sublime stupidity, I had submitted, and allowed him to take over. It has been nearly four thousand years since I gave into him, but now, I won't take it anymore.

I stood, wiping some blood off my lip and faced him. Defiance was painted on my face, and shock on his.

"You can't even begin to comprehend what I'm going through right now! Your sister is dead, but did you kill her? Anna was my wife, I killed her with my own sword! You don't have any idea how I feel!"

I wasn't even aware of the tears spilling from my crimson eyes, I had just confirmed my deed verbally. I burned inside, hearing my own words stuck on replay. My violent paroxysm gave the sensation of an ethereal hand, crushing my heart. I gulped, hardly believing what I'd just done. I was the one who ended her beautiful life. No one but myself was responsible.

His expression is murderous. I can see it in those sapphire eyes; he wants to kill me. Honestly… I really don't care anymore. He can send me to Anna, he could be my salvation.

I feel his hand around my throat, a flesh and bone tourniquet. My soul cries out, but I don't make a sound. Death is nearing… he needs only to continue for a moment more.

"You will never be perfect! I hate you!" he screams, tightening his grip on me. My vision is getting blurry, whispered voices sweep past my ear, I'm drowning in his words.

He just doesn't understand. I never was and will never be…

Perfect.


End file.
